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She looks down at the floor before her gaze falls on mine when she lifts her head. “I don’t want it to be.”
I sigh over the giant clusterfuck that is today. After everything’s said and done, I overreacted about her not telling me she was moving out, but I thought she was moving away, not moving out of the pool house. So her shutting down on me must be her way of coping with me confronting her, which makes me feel like a bigger asshole than I already do.
I take three steps toward her, wrapping my arms around her shoulders and crushing her head to my chest as I suck in my pride and say, “I won’t interfere with your plans anymore, but once you’re settled into your new place next week, I want you to call me so we can pick up where we left off.” The tension leaves my muscles as she wraps her arms around my waist and I breathe in her familiar scent.
I kiss the top of her head before she pulls out of my arms and takes a step away from me. “I’m not keeping you out of things on purpose, I… I just want to be able to say I did something on my own.”
I want to tell her she’s not on her own, but I hold in my thought and nod silently, watching as she rubs the side of her cotton shorts in a nervous gesture.
We stand taking each other in for a minute before she motions behind her. “I really do have to pack.”
“I guess you do,” I say without any emotion in my voice.
I feel hurt, stupid, and cut out by her, but I’m going to respect her wishes and let her move into her new place. But the clock’s ticking. Come Monday, it’s the start of a new week and I’m not letting her shut me out. I’ve had a taste of having her in my life and I’m not letting her go that easily.
Love is a funny thing, sometimes you have to let it take its own course, whether you want to or not.
I push the last box into the back of the SUV Tris gave me. I refused at first, but when he handed me the pink slip that said I owned the vehicle, I didn’t have a choice. He used the excuse that if I don’t have the car then I won’t be able to come back to this side of town anytime to see the kids. I wanted to tell him I wouldn’t be back anyway because it’s too dangerous, but instead, I took the keys and stayed silent.
Closing the trunk, I step back, swiping my hands down my face before spinning around. A shadow darts around the back of the trees that line the edge of the driveway and my skin prickles. I’m used to this feeling now, I know they’ve been watching me closely since the last package, waiting to see what I’ll do. I’m glad they are because now they can witness me leaving. I only hope they’ll follow me and stay away from my family.
Stepping away from the car, I walk back into the house where Tris, Harmony, Clay, and Izzie stand, waiting to say goodbye.
Izzie is all smiles, but Clay’s face is downturned. He knows: he can feel it in the same way Tris can—I won’t be coming back.
“I’ll see you really soon, okay?” I tell Clay, kneeling in front of him and wrapping my arms around him.
He squeezes me tight, his breath catching as he says, “I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you, too,” I whisper.
I hold onto him for a beat longer before moving toward Izzie, giving her the same hug and telling her the same thing.
“I’ll make sure to save you a place at the tea party,” she says, grinning big and wide and showing me her teeth.
“You do that,” I say, pulling away and standing.
Harmony steps forward and gives me a hug, and that’s the easiest one out of all of them because when she lets go, I’m turning toward Tris and I feel my carefully placed disguise start to crumble.
This is where I should tell him what’s going on; tell him everything and maybe he can keep me safe. I have the same things run through my head from a week ago, but I come to the same conclusion as I did when I was thinking of telling Nate: it’s too dangerous.
“This will always be your home,” he tells me, pulling me toward him and crushing me to his chest.
I wrap my arms around his waist, taking him all in and relishing in it. If I stick to my plan, I won’t ever see him again.
Pulling away, I wipe away a tear that’s broken free. “I better get going.”
Nodding to myself to give me the courage to leave, I spin around, taking the few steps toward the door. As I’m about to close it, Tris says, “What’s your new address?”
“I…” I turn my head back toward him. “I’ll send it in a message, I have to get going to meet the landlord.”
Closing the door behind me, I speed walk to the car, jumping in and turning the engine on. I don’t look back, driving down the driveway, briefly stopping at the end and turning right, heading out of the part of town with the big houses and through the tunnel to the other side.
My gaze flicks toward the rearview mirror, trying to see if I’m being followed, but I can’t work out if I am or not.
My mind swirls with so many thoughts I’m sure my head will explode, but the most prominent of them all is: Am I doing the right thing?
No one knows for sure if the path they’re taking is the right one, but we all do what we think is best. Whether it’s the right or wrong thing, we do it out of love, to protect the ones who mean most to you.
